The conflict of myriad raindrops ,
of marbled , thundering intimidation
Of pagan streaks of fire jettisoned from
black , whirling leviathans* ...

Coppering Pine needle blankets
Checkerboard blue , gray green mosaics
The draw of afternoon August Sun
The burgeoning pressure of imminent easterly storm
A faint relief of watery mist and collective
woodland sigh
Diamond wave , teeming rain filled carpets 'neath
cloudy confusion held in life giving evergreen myrrh* ....

I am every racial slur , homophobic
speech , shot fired in anger , every military
maneuver on a foreign beach
I am oblivious to hungry children ,  glued to
every word of the press , hardened to the plight
of the addicted , mocking each woman's precious gift
of unique identity , rollicking through the decay of
my fellow man , fracking , e-mailing , cell phoning ,
abhorring the mother breast feeding her child in public ,
robotically following my brethren , opposed to a Muslims religious freedom , the **** of needed history , automatic
weapons freely sold , schools out of control , computer
generated , typed in hate with no foreseeable end* ...

Threadbare in the calculus of love ...
Hopeful as the evening salvo of -
thunder and sun shower
Infant streams that writhe for some-
faraway ocean ..

Brother , can you help me with Mother ? I know your busy solving riddles for a Fortune 500 company with an office at home , a phone that won't stop ringing ,  that's why you never call ! You'll find me in the telephone directory by my full name , should memory fail you can call Aunt Florida at the flower store , we live on the second floor , she'll tap on the ceiling alerting me , I'll run as fast as I can to pick up the line , talk about old times .. If you should find yourself free , can you remember the caretaker at the cemetery where Daddy was laid to rest , his number escapes me today , Mother and I are such a mess , up at five , breakfast at six , Good Morning America , Live with Kelly and Michael , The Price is Right at ten ! Our dying monotonous days , counting out pills , ten o'clock , two and four ! The front window was broken , repaired with a beach towel and duct tape , furnace in need of repairs , the oven works quite well in a pinch , heating the den , drying wet tennis shoes , eating those delicious canned biscuits , the same ones we loved as kids ! Mother , I fear will not last one more week , one foot in the grave , refusing to eat .. If you stop by your parking will be free , there's an alley behind the store , you can park in front of the dumpster on Saturdays ! Look along the fence .. My vegetable garden is still doing fine .. Three plants each . One for us , one for the deer and one for our family and friends ..Goodbye .

Sorry is a magical eraser stored like a bullet
in a gun belt* ...

I reside amongst the failures , the losers
and the shunned with great ease* ....

Practicing my greetings and goodbyes
Working on retorts , concerned looks and smiles
Reaching for a handshake with the goof in the mirror
Thespian Monday mornings worthy of Oscar consideration

From South River Hill the lights of Alabama shone
Beside a meandering Chattahoochee I once stood alone
To catch sight of a river dancer or skip a stone
To catch a new stars arrival , the howl of a wildcat or
a glimpse of the orange setting sun
Her beauty effervesced , brown waters teased the
muddy banks , an Egret flew low overhead , the calm
surface echoed smallmouth feeding explosions
Becalmed riverwoods silvered in the coming night
Nocturnal songsters peaked on cue
The red clay trail home illuminated , voices of bobwhite quail serenading , the braying of beagles at the hillside , the alarm call of Embden Geese gathering at the whitewood fence line* ..

Self induced inferno ,torching grass in mid-Winter spurring Spring growth , driving smoke into Rockdale , armed with Mason jar canteen , flat shovel , mattock at mercy of Alabama and her Western breeze an the conflagration before us , beyond well , spring or cistern , until the thirst of fire is quenched and at guard well into twilight .............

I witnessed the fiery sky of Virginia traveling south
Twas the template of Valhalla without doubt
I picked an eastern star over the mountains
of Tennessee to follow home
Something for a penniless , young loser to
call his own
Back to Georgia to say goodbye
To ensure a widow that all was fine
He was a book already read
Now he was dead

The rhythmic , frigid breath of March
Where pathetic sun worshippers have no God
We are the center of the universe , traveling ships
Purveyors of elusive miracles that lie just beyond our fingertips
Our forefathers physicality becomes the dust collecting on windshields
The steaming earth from a fresh turned field
A beam of starlight where celestial life melds

Strumming a guitar with -
my ceiling fan brother
He's one hell of a drummer
Keeps time like no other
A few crickets are now added to the -
mix
Nocturnal musicians just like me ,
lovers of jazz getting their kicks
Feet tapping time stirs my coffee ,
the diddy goes where it needs to be
Perfectly timed shots of firewater -
ties up this midnight arrangement
Buzzing , smiling , creative and free* ....

My inner machinations dwell where fear churns the night ..
As the uncertainty of my next breath weighs heavy upon my mind ..
Where panic eclipses educated thought , the voice of reason battered , left for dead amongst the jagged rocks ...
The second of sheer terror at the thought of public engagement , the quickness of my chest wrapped in the claws of depression ...
The child forever trapped in mature armor , hands that tremor , disguised in solemn mien , a devilish lien placed against my dignity , the fog that obscures my mortal objectivity ..
Bound in rusted chains , seized in vexed emotion .. Life unreal ..

The dance of the vultures o'er frosted red clay ,smoke swirling in the timid valley , ominous vibes in the winter grass alley ....
In the Principality of the Pulpwood Stumps
A wounded , worried lover's psyche tortured
Misty rain , copious memory hound weathered men and brothers
Barking corporals , leathered skin , soggy dens ..                                     Nutcrackers form a line , stand tall , call cadence then break into attention
Tight , bright , impeccably sutured uniforms crackle in the biting breeze , adorned in silver clasp with pink marble buttons securing slingshot munitions ...
With cherry cheeks a bugler splits the silence
The soldiers load their roscoe's
Keepers of the Grass hurl sweet gum cones
high into the orange eve
Locust spears guard fescue forts and hillside -
tunnels
Cracked corn funneled into hollow onion stems
The November battlefield looms dark and silent-
as the autumn bulb dims ...
A spiffy locust then proclaims from a tall tree
War is finished for you and me ..
The pasture of our forefathers shall be -
divided in thirds
A share for every mammal , insect and bird ...

Bring forth the unknown .. The sweltering night , the call of the artillery round .. The tragedy of mans frailty , calculated in misery and pooling blood , the cry from the field of battle , the drowned upon the merciless shore .. Inveigh the opposing force , the ground beneath their cannon ,
the opening glint of Sun o'er the beachhead by morning tide .. To the sacrificial American warriors of antiquity , may the ghost of Sergeants and Field Lieutenant survey and secure our safe passage by the morrow ...

Trapped in a briar patch with the sun
falling ever faster
A rite of passage that every child
should have to master* ...

Blue egg , big blue egg
Someday I'll crack your shell
I'll set a course for the Dream Machine -
to drop a nickel in the Wishing Well
To hopscotch the asteroid belt in the
starry sky ..
To circle Venus where love will never die ..
Back home in the colorful evening
A piece of golden tape to cover a hole --
in the ceiling ...

Briar vines merely scratched the itch for more ,
porcelain fingers tattooed wine red
Morning rays become possessed , muting -
early day laughter and fervent desires
Humid air thickened with pine , wild grass ,
-fertile humus , clay and wisteria
Stirring the brown locust , bluebird , thrasher ,
Guinea wasp , blue skink , toad and cottontail
Three ripe berries in the jar , one for the forager ,
one for the eve , one for the morrow
Traipsing gravel byways to the music of the rattling corn , ****** broomsage and the iron harrow
A whitewashed homestead wrapped in oak ,
mulberry , sycamore and crape myrtle ,
Songbirds of every shape and melodious -
occupation , alert geese crying from the -
hedgerows , waves of sorghum dancing in the -
shaded meadows ...

All the churches lock their doors today
Canned biscuits replace the old fashioned -
way
Fast food joints line the parkway
The gas stations stopped giving prizes away
Once proud whitewashed homes are tinged -
in gray
God ****** communist ....

Marigold Sun radiates her Universal blessings , setting tin alight and warming our Dawn landscape ..What magnetism pulls the seedling to the sky ? What draw upon life's current will brighten my world with morning light ?

Frozen fires laid en masse like burnt offerings
Shards of ice dove from White Pines , cracked into
a thousand pieces
A lone Bluebird alighted , she picked from the frost encapsulated
hidden greenery , a supplication for sunlight was answered
From that point forward I knew you were with me* ..

Morning clothed in sunshine
She is a friend to sit beside
A companion in my exploration
of passing thought and permanent dream
My golden hour of natural themes ,
welcome serenity as I revisit impossible
schemes* ...

Old Man Kennedy's ghost haunts these -
hallways just as always
Forever seeking a student without a pass ,
prima facie evidence for a swat on the ***
Though his likeness today is sealed in portrait glass ,
he continually peers into each door window -
to monitor the class
His dress shoes still echo throughout this -
former place of learning
Seeking the naughty with unquenchable yearning* ..

Deviant sublimations , the reprogrammed sociopath is now running downhill , faster by the hour , tripping over the final stone then falling
forever ...

October bonfires for Autumn lesser pyromaniacs ,
with Oak , Hickory and Fall leaves , ashes floating
in the Black Moon night , they ride into star clusters
then fade out of sight
Locked in flames allure , counseled by fire , glowing
embers , hypnotic flickering light , running nightfall shadows o'er the hardwood lines  
Gardenia perfume , warm coats , our uncloaked breath mingling with sweet smoke , cricket songs , hand-made skewers with
bratwurst and marshmallows
Trading stories , relearning one another ,
growing stronger , warmer , drawn into the wavering glow , crackling
tinder , white ash flurry , kindling eventide mellow* ..

1 can be f0und at the c0rner 0f asp1rat10n
and c0ntrad1ct10n lanes ..
C0mbust1ble , astray ..
H0pelessly dra1ned .
Cattle marked f0r death-
0n parade ....

November Sun , refusing to reveal her loneliness , a cloudy piece of the world in tears this morning ..
A red tailed Hawk , grounded by rain just outside my window , a blue dragonfly sailing aimlessly across the meadow ..
The vigor and warmth of Summer , the candle of hope lighting the night has abated .. Tall Oaks , Magnolias and Crape Myrtles like lovers , stand naked , unashamed ..
My eyes have lost peripheral vision , anxiety taken command of my consciousness , rumors of intrigue whisper softly on warm southern winds .. The physical forces in mechanical motion , condemnation of my spirit at the hour of the eruption ..
My demon narcolepsy , a marionette of ploy and trickery for a student of hope standing dead on both feet ..
With a red heart on your sleeve , she wears a smile well , like many a familiar door , slipping quietly from within my grasp ...

My shade of blue is unlike yours ...
I remember differently as we walk down the same
country lane , process my pain in a private way
I watch for Bluebirds while you seek the Raven ,
pray for safe haven as you row the turbid ocean
Express myself openly while you hide in blanketed
angry emotion
Pining for sunlit deliverance while you castigate
the God given day
Catch my breath in gratitude while you begrudgingly
walk away* ....

The curt March winds terse elocution , where seagulls explore noonday menus and beg for meager sustenance . A vision of shadow people cleaving the meld o'er boardwalk divisions , blackened , with crested burnt orange perspectives .. The barbarity of water subdued , I am born witness to warm ocean pirouettes .. Where a mans senses become one , at the final turn on the road home ...

Blessed is this monument where -
the woe begotten mechanisms of -
capitalism and caste democracy -
gather
May their gods deliver and protect-
them
May their labors ne'er be forgotten
May their frozen , weathered and
calloused hands find solace
I pray that their zeal for family and -
financial security is forever accomplished* ..

It's the butterfly blues once again  , beauty on the outside , troubled from within ..  Flying without respite then lighting gracefully , clinging to any cover available to protect you from stormy wind !
A mayfly state of mind , running at full speed , seeking a month of memories in one turbulent Summer day .!
Busy honeybee , up at the crack of Dawn , continually working away till your final day on Earth !
Hap-happy grasshopper without a care in the world , jumping haphazardly from tree to bush .. Laughing at the crickets that clutch the ground , oblivious to the Bluebirds flying about !

Log cabins are built with raw hardwood
Strong , seasoning , deflective
Chinked with mud to fight -
hard days
Shining Oak later becoming yellowed , weathered
Filler eventually hardened , cracked
A shell now exposed and abandoned
Secrets made evident
Curtains racked in the breeze
Shelter reengineered , barely standing , bound in sheer memories* ..

The fishes worship the sun and the moon
Some leave the surety of water for a quick , clear -
image of their beauty and authority
Others swim unsure , besmirching their
brethren for believing such folly  , sinking
into the depths to escape the majority
Schools of followers forming religious
cliques , casting anger toward the bottom -
dwelling fish
Voracious congregations in a feeding -
frenzy , growing larger , never ending
One day a strange sight did appear
Reverend Grouper calmed the church -
declaring " the angels are here "
They floated to the surface where they were -
quickly netted , the command of the pastor -
was soon regretted
The agnostics and the atheist continue to
'lay low' , timidly swimming from rock to coral to
hole* ....

Templeton was privy to this poets inner sanctum , the soft voice
of reason in the black hallways of the minds 'Netherworld' .. The keeper
of the latchkey for a castle better left undisturbed , the feline equivalent
to Sandburg , Freud and Nietzsche .. The ear for many a spoken word awarded the benefit of paper and latter day reflection .. A noble 'Mouser of the Highest Order ... RIP Sir Templeton !

Old acquaintances die on the vine , left at times
like unpicked apples in backyard groves
Their purpose completed
Their value long since depleted  
Their help painfully unneeded* ..

The Elder Queen provided shelter from July heat
At times she nourished our bodies and filled our
souls with holiday tales and baked nutmeat
Her beauty was indescribable during the winter
snow
Her fallen cover fertilized our gardens , created warm
bedding for laying hens , filled the air during the Fall fires
Remained a constant source of beauty and security , blessed our
farm more than we'll ever know* .....

Tying the stray dog in my psyche
In view of wind racked palm trees , boats out to sea ,
an introvert with his ecumenical tools , watching for dolphins in his
cutoff jeans , with Pecan Sandies and hot green tea , his silver thermos
and his Sandburg poetry , sandals and tie dyed tee* ..

Dahlia toned Angels minister
unto the passing hours
Inquisitive whitetails work the
canebreak , crossing Bear Creek into arable
pastures  
A Banty rooster silhouette calls the
close of day

What outfit do I wear today ? The suit of armor that repels those committed to my destruction or the cape of pride , that which repels religious fanatics and their fables !  I've many protective outfits and triggers to choose from today . Like yesterday , retouching numerous blemishes which appeared on my social portrait from drops of rain , one for each memory ,  many storms  , clouds , billowing this very morning ..  A thespian stands before the looking glass ready to perform , plea for recognition and stand in judgement from his peers ........

My master closet will burst open one day
The evidence of my hardscrabble -
time on earth will finally give way
A family member will turn -
the doorknob after I'm gone
There before their eyes
Bones stacked in groups ,
pile upon pile , twelve hands -
high
Every bone a diary of my -
slow demise ..

I like to drink whiskey till the burning stops
Jot down a few lines
Hit a little *** , see what I got
Throw it in the burn barrel or
'file it away' , add something to it maybe -
some other day
Strum a few chords
Looking for a melody
Songs about empty ***** bottles -
and full ashtrays
Hardwood rockers and better days
A warm , worn out bag of bones venting -
by the porch light
Drowning his memories on a cold December night* ..

I am blue , black , red , violet & colors yet to be discovered ...
Waiting for the Ghost of Mothers , of soldier & tribe to brush-
my body o'er Hill Country scenery ...

Hurried with the passing day in shelters made of white clay
Resting 'neath the river boulders , riding cool water current
Dining in the shadows of Dusk
My childhood afternoon quarry , teeming throughout
the diamond laced brook , beneath the Sycamore bough ,
laden in Spring leaf miracles* ...

When the Coweta woodlands burn
The ghost of Muscogee forefathers return
Their silhouettes appear against the waning moon
Ibofanga disguised as the wind rushing to protect his 'Piedmont heirloom*' ...

Seashells from Florida
Handmade porcelain bells
Vintage encyclopedias , trinkets ,
ceramic decanters and old mail
The cabinet witnessed Hell , but -
inanimate objects hold their secrets well* ..

When I pass who will take delight -
in every blade of grass ..
Who will catch their reflection on a quiet-
pond with grace & wonder ..
How will alms be allotted in lieu of-
riparian angels ..
Where will avian brethren perform -
the 'scores of creation'..

Worship the daystars return
The snowflakes of December
Rain swollen tributaries bound for
struggling oceans
Tall pines racked in stormy Spring
The insects of the long , hot Summer
Hardwoods beneath blue cover
Recall these blessings with the fondness
of a lover
With reverence of the likes afforded no other* ..

Vanilla tractors leave laden impressions upon Winter fields , hungry Crows forage turned ****-land yield
Diesel fired , mechanical Mules struggling in the Cobalt Blue December morning
Chimney smoke stalling at treetop level , clanging songs of the harrow , frosted furrow , Goose grease and burning , broom sage meadow* ...

Standard legal fees are prima facie evidence of thievery  ...

The 21st Century ,where policemen routinely empty their clips , somewhere a toddler , famished and thankful for an entree consisting of potato chips ..Another thirty second story on the eleven o'clock news ..Teenager killed over his tennis shoes .. Sometimes I feel like Jesus is afraid to come back..Vishnu has dropped down on one knee and wept ...Every race on a war footing , quick to attack ! Justice is nothing more than an act , funded by billionaires , the dead are stars , the supporting  cast say the same things , read off a standard script , lawyers stand behind tearful people looking angry , like a bad actor straight out of central casting ! Tight lipped one day , unable to shut it off the next ..Oblivious to the real desires expressed by his clients , fifteen minutes in the bright lights ! A familiar scene that plays out almost every night .....